


won't you be my livewire?

by ginnydear



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Coming Out, F/M, Fluff, M/M, SOULMATE AU'S SET ME ON FIRE, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Spierfeld Week, and then, honestly who ever let me write soulmates AU's i LOVE T H E M, it was like at most a couple thousand words an then, this got away from me a bit and became well you see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 10:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14282826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginnydear/pseuds/ginnydear
Summary: “Aren’t we all made of stars, anyway?” Bram whispers, and Simon shrugs his free shoulder.“I don’t know enough about the universe to speculate, Bram.”simon's been waiting his whole life for his mark to change. soulmate au. spierfeld week, day two.





	won't you be my livewire?

**Author's Note:**

> *bangs pots and pans* DAY TWO. GET READY FOR DAY TWO. boy this one is a doozy. it honestly took me so long to write this, and you can see why. one very long piece. lot going on. good fluffy feelings. 
> 
> shoutout to [Caitlin](http://ginnywweaslays.tumblr.com) as always for being a wonderful person and patient with every single 2am mistake i make. 
> 
> title is from livewire by oh wonder.

Simon’s seven when he realizes he’s different from his classmates.

Nick’s mark is on his left hand, which always makes their new teachers do a double take when Nick raises his hand. He shows it to Simon when they first meet, the first day of kindergarten, whispering how he stares at it sometimes and wonder’s what word it’ll be someday.

Leah’s mark is on her right shoulder, and Simon sees it before she shows it to him, her long hair barely obscuring the black mark against her skin. She stares down at it often, Simon catching her looking at it in class sometimes when she’s having an off day.

Simon’s mark isn’t anywhere visible, and sometimes older kids make fun of him for that. He’s too shy to fight back, or pull up his shirt and show them where the mark is on his ribcage, black against his pale skin. His parents had told him the placement wasn’t overly meaningful, but that didn’t stop kids from being cruel.

“It means your soulmates doesn’t like you,” one girl says when he’s ten, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes, ignoring it as always.

But every day, when he comes home from school and closes his bedroom door, he pulls off his shirt and stares at the unmoving black spot on his ribs. It’s stretched in size over time with his growth spurts, and when he runs his fingers over it, it’s impossible to feel it’s there.

He’s eleven when he thinks that maybe there is a reason his mark is hidden on his body, and it has to do with a recurring dream about Daniel Radcliffe. He tries not to think about it too hard, and keeps going through his daily life trying to catalogue everything anyone ever says to him, in hopes that, when he pulls his shirt up in the bathroom mirror, something will be etched on his chest.

Everyone’s told that their soulmate could be anyone. There’s plenty of people who have studied the process, and Simon’s read some of their work late at night, huddled in his bed, looking for a reason for his mark to be hidden away. And every researcher, ever, has concluded that the soul’s don’t care about gender, race, location: the souls find two bodies and inhabit them. The souls have been doing this for thousands of years.

It doesn’t make the world any less homophobic, which is when Simon realizes why his mark is hidden.

He doesn’t know who to tell, or how to even say the words aloud, so he holds them in the dark of his mark, hiding them away until he finds the correct words. Just because he’s finally accepted what he’s half known since he was ten doesn’t make it any easier to think about.

\---

Leah’s mark changes the first day of freshman year. Simon tries to be less bitter that his hasn’t.

Nick’s changes the first day of junior year, and Simon’s only mildly jealous as he and the new girl Abby instantaneously realize it’s each other. Their lunch table is a loud, excited mess. Simon tunes most of it out.

“Wait,” Nick’s voice cuts through Simon’s not-jealous haze, and he looks up to see Nick looking at Bram Greenfeld, the quiet soccer kid who’s been sitting at their lunch table with the loud soccer kid Garrett Laughlin since Leah and Garrett realized their marks matched after a few weeks in freshman year.

Bram’s looking up at Nick like he wants the seat to swallow him whole. Simon feels sorry for him, knows that he’s always been impossibly shy. Bram’s looking at Nick impatiently, his fingers grasping the edge of the table. Garrett looks like he’s about to say something when Nick finally speaks.

“Where’s your mark?” he asks, and suddenly the whole table’s staring at Bram. He shrinks under the attention and ducks his head down, his hands slipping off the edge of the table and into his lap. Simon tries not to stare, because he doesn’t want to make this moment more uncomfortable for Bram, but he’s also curious, because he’s never actually seen where Bram’s mark is.

“It’s on my underarm, like in my armpit,” Bram says, and Nick’s brow furrows.

“How come I’ve never seen it?” he asks, and Garrett steps in then.

“Do you really want your nose in Greenfelds’ smelly pit? That’s weird man,” Garrett says, and the attention shifts off Bram to Nick, who’s now throwing some of his chips at Garrett, Abby leaning away from him as Garrett retaliates. Simon looks at Bram to see him staring at his lunch tray.

“Hey, you know Nick’s just super nosy, he doesn’t mean any harm,” Simon says quietly, and Bram looks up at him quickly, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth. Simon’s always felt that Bram doesn’t like him that much, because he never talks to him. But he nods after a moment and offers Simon a smile. Chips hit his face as Garrett bats them away and he laughs suddenly, a sound Simon’s never heard him make before, and it brings a little color to Simon’s cheeks as Bram turns to Garrett and shoves the chips into his shirt.

“Quit being a dick,” Bram says to Garrett, which halts the food fight all together.

“Bram, swearing?” Nick teases, and Bram rolls his eyes at them.

“I’m leaving,” he says, grabbing his backpack and lunch tray. He’s gone before anyone can stop him.

\---

“I found a raspberry one,” Abby says as she sits down across from Simon, tossing him the raspberry jam packet she’s stolen from another table. He chuckles and nods in thanks, stripping back the flimsy cover to spread the jam on his waffle.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he says, smiling at her. She’s smiling back, and he’s glad she asked him if he wanted to go to Waffle House after play practice was cut short. She’s only just transferred to their school, and he feels like he doesn’t know much about her, other than she’s Nick’s soulmate (which still feels weird in his head).

“So, how’s being the star of the show going?” he asks her after a moment, and she sighs heavily.

“I always forget how much memorization I have to do,” she sighs as she takes a drink of her water.

“We can trade,” Simon says with a grin, and she laughs again, her face bright and open. Simon’s really glad they’ve become friends.

“You’d really dress up in the slinky black dress and heels and sing a couple solos?” she asks with a glint in her eyes, and he shakes his head quickly, holding up his hands.

“I could not sing a couple solos,” he says as he laughs at her face, and it’s the lightest he’s felt since school started.

“I think you could do it,” she says when they quiet down, and he looks up from his waffle at her.

“Thanks,” he replies, picking up his glass to toast her. She picks up hers as well and they clink glasses, laughing softly again.

They eat in comfortable silence for awhile, trading weird looks at the antics of people at other tables. The waiter comes back and fills their glasses, making easy small talk. Abby’s almost too nice, and Simon’s glad that Nick’s soulmates with someone like her.

“So, why’d you move here?” Simon asks, because the question’s been gnawing at him for awhile but he’s much less nosy than Nick is.

“Oh,” she sits up, “well, my mom got promoted at her job, and it involved relocation. She and my dad fought about it a bunch but then they kinda… mellowed out and my dad found a job here he likes and now… here I am.”

“You moved here from DC, right?”

“Yeah. I miss it sometimes, but Georgia’s fun. Plus, I really feel like the universe was at work when my mom got that promotion,” she says with a wink, and Simon laughs.

“It was weird though,” she stares out the window, her mouth pinched. “I didn’t realize soulmates could argue like my parents did. I was scared they’d break up.”

The confession feels deeper than anything they’ve shared, and Simon reaches across the table to gently squeeze her hand.

“Soulmates aren’t immune to arguing, it’s just easier to come to a resolution because of how well in tune you are with each other,” he says softly, and she bites her bottom lip as she nods.

“I guess I didn’t realize,” she says with a small smile, and Simon squeezes her hand again.

“I’m sorry it was rough. But I’m really glad you’re here,” he says, and she smiles much wider at that.

“They’re great now, as ever, but I don’t think they realize what it felt like to listen to them fight,” she says. Simon nods.

“My parents rarely argue; they have discussions that just feel tense to me and my sister. You should talk to Leah; her parents have this weird dynamic where they argue as a way of communicating normally. It drives Leah insane sometimes,” he says, and Abby nods.

“I should just talk more to Leah, in general. I didn’t think she liked me that first day, but she’s been nicer to me recently,” Abby confesses, and Simon laughs softly.

“That’s Leah. She’s someone who warms up to people slowly.”

Abby nods, bringing her hand out from under Simon’s to squeeze his.

“Thanks, Si. I really appreciate you listening to my crappy stories,” she keeps her voice low, and Simon smiles at her sincerely.

They get up to pay after that, slinging their backpacks up over their shoulders and bumping into each other as they walk up to the host stand to pay. Abby leaves a big tip, and the host lets them steal a few extra mints before they leave.

Simon unlocks the car and Abby gets in, settling comfortably into the front seat. He lets her plug her phone into the stereo and pick a song, content that she’ll pick something good. Her house isn’t far from the WaHo, but the music still has to be good.

They sit in silence as Simon drives, the windows down to save on gas as it’s just cool enough to be comfortable. Abby pulls sunglasses out of her backpack and slips them onto her face, tipping her head back to let it loll near the window. Simon laughs, his hair flying all around his face as he drives, eyes squinted. He doesn’t want to wear sunglasses over his regular glasses, and he still doesn’t want transitions.

They’re stopped at a red light when the urge to just get it out there hits him, square in the ribcage where he’s kept the secret for years. He grips the steering wheel and tries to think of how to formulate the words, as he’s never said them out loud. He barely thinks them in his head.

“Abby,” he says as they get closer to her house, and his brain’s ticking down the moments until it’s too late and he’ll be stuck with this secret forever.

“Yes?” she says, and when he glances at her, she’s looking at him in concern. He realizes his hands are shaking on the steering wheel and he turns down her street with some difficulty. He pulls over in front of her house and looks up at the ceiling of the car.

“I’m gay,” he finally says, shutting his eyes for a moment before looking down at her. She’s staring up at him with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth and his brain starts to word vomit.

“I’m sorry, if that’s out of the blue or weird and you can’t tell anyone, please, not even Nick or Leah because I haven’t told them, or my parents, and I just felt like I could share and I’m sorry again if it’s random-“

“Simon,” Abby says calmly, and when he looks at her, she’s smiling kindly. She isn’t laughing at him, or pointing, or getting out of the car in a hurry. She’s smiling.

“You haven’t told anyone else?”

“No one.”

“You know I won’t tell anyone, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you know I’m really honored you decided to tell me,” she reaches over and takes his shaking hands, and he blinks a couple times.

“Are you surprised?”

She looks at him critically for a moment. “No.”

“So you knew?”

“No.” Another critical look.

“But-“ she cuts him off again.

“Simon, I’m not surprised because it isn’t that big of a deal. I didn’t know because… well, not to sound mean, but I haven’t paid that much attention to your romantic predilections.”

“Nice word use.”

“Thanks.”

They smile at each other, and he lets out a deep breath. She’s still holding his hands, and he’s hit again with how much he’s glad he knows her.

“Are you going to tell the others? You know I won’t tell Nick but I’ll want to,” she says, and he feels only slightly guilty.

“I’ll try to, soon. I should probably tell my parents first,” he says, and she nods slowly.

“Well, whatever you do, I love you,” she says, and he feels his cheeks warm at her words.

“I love you too,” he says, and she pokes his cheeks affectionately.

\---

It’s the second week of September when he feels like he can tell Nick and Leah. His opportunity comes when Nick declares it’s best friend night, and no soulmates are invited. Since freshman year, when Leah started spending parts of her weekends with Garrett (and, Simon found out sophomore year when Leah had laughed at an inside joke with him at their lunch table, Bram) Nick and Simon have had to declare that to get Leah over into Nick’s basement to play video games and eat lots of gross food.

She agrees easily, pointing out that Nick can’t invite Abby then, and he nods slowly.

“It’s self-imposed torture, but we deserve a good game night.”

So, Simon finds himself sitting on the old ratty couch in Nick’s basement, Dorito dust all over his fingers as he watches Leah and Nick play. He’s barely paying attention, his nerves getting the best of him, and he’s been waiting for a pause for awhile.

“Simon, is my water bottle near you?” Leah asks, and Simon reaches down to hand it over to her. She looks at him quickly, smiling, but falters when she sees his face. Before he can think of a convincible lie, she’s pausing the game, elbowing Nick when he protests.

“Si, what’s up?” she asks, moving so she’s sitting near his legs. He squeezes his hands together.

“I need to tell you guys something,” he says, and Nick scrambles up onto the couch, his eyes excited.

“Did you mark finally change?” he says, and Simon almost wishes that was the news he was telling them.

“No,” he looks up at the ceiling, willing his eyes to not fill with tears. Leah circles her hand around his ankle and he lets out a deep sigh. “I’m gay.”

The room’s quiet except for the music from the game, and Simon has to count to ten to keep himself from hyperventilating.

“Si, look at us,” Nick says softly, his hand coming to rest on Simon’s shoulder. Simon lets out another deep breath and looks down, finding both of them staring up at him with barely contained affection.

“Breathe, Si, so we can talk,” Leah says, and he does, counting in for seven and out for ten. When he’s finally not on the verge of crying, Nick speaks.

“Have you told your parents?” Leah asks, and he shakes his head.

“I… I actually came out to Abby the other week, after play practice. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys first,” he hurries to say, and Nick and Leah shake their heads.

“Si, coming out is your thing, however you want to do it. I’m just glad you felt you could tell us,” Nick says softly, and Simon now wants to cry for another reason. His friends are being so kind, and he didn’t think it would go this well.

“When did you know?” Leah asks, and Simon lets out a long sigh, falling back against the couch. He feels lighter now that his best friends know.

“I think I knew when I was like… ten, but I didn’t… accept it until like, 8th grade,” he muses, and Nick hums.

“You don’t think your soulmate will be a girl, do you?” Nick asks, sounding panicked, and Simon actually laughs at that.

“I don’t think so. I… I actually did some research on the marks when I was younger, and I think maybe mine’s hidden because, well, Georgia isn’t the most progressive place and the mark could out me, accidentally,” he explains the logic, and Leah’s nodding firmly.

“That makes sense,” she says softly, squeezing his ankle. He takes another deep breath and lets it out slowly, his body relaxing back into the couch.

“You guys promise you won’t tell anyone?” he says, and they look at him like they’re offended he’d even ask.

“We promise,” they say together, and Simon sits forward and pulls both of them into a hug.

“I love you guys,” he says, and they both chuckle, patting his back affectionately.

“We love you too.”

\---

Soccer tryouts start in the middle of September, and that’s where Simon finds himself one afternoon when Ms. Albright has to cancel play practice for whatever reason. Simon’s not complaining, it gives him time to sit in the bleachers, his back to the field, and listen to Abby and Leah talk. Abby took Simon’s advice, and has gotten to be better friends with Leah lately, and it makes Simon feel better about being the only unmatched one left of the three of them.

“My parents once were arguing in the store and I thought they were having a real fight, and I broke down in tears right there in the cereal aisle,” Leah says, and Abby laughs loudly before reaching forward to touch Leah’s arm.

“I shouldn’t laugh, but that’s good,” she says, and Leah nods.

“They’re weird ones, that’s for sure,” she huffs, and Simon grins.

“What about your parents, Simon? They weird?” Abby asks, and Leah covers her mouth with her hand.

“My parents met in high school and are your stereotypical high school sweethearts. My dad was the good-looking quarterback and my mom was the valedictorian. They rarely argue and are always laughing and kissing in the kitchen like they’re still seventeen,” Simon says, and Abby makes a face.

“I almost prefer the arguing,” Leah says, and Simon shakes his head.

“They’re wonderful,” he says, and Abby nods.

“Are they… you know, accepting?” she says, keeping her voice low, and Simon’s glad each of his friends has mastered the art of discretion.

“Oh yeah!” Leah answers before Simon can. “His mom’s a hardcore feminist, and his dad cries at old movies all the time. He cried when he took us to see Toy Story 3. They’re way Democrat.”

Simon nods, because it’s the absolute truth, and Abby nods.

“I’m glad, I’d hate to have to not like your parents before I got to meet them,” she says.

“Why would you hate Simon’s parents?”

It’s Nick, yelling right behind Simon, and he yells in surprise, both Leah and Abby breaking into fits of giggles.

“Nick!” Simon yells, turning around, his face red. He glares at Nick, who has the decency to look guilty.

“I’m sorry man, it was too easy,” Nick laughs, climbing up on the chain link fence that encloses the bleachers as Abby walks down to be near him. Leah and Garrett, always a rather subtle couple, just smile at each other as Garrett walks over, Bram trailing behind him.

“Why do you guys have to try out again?” Abby asks, and Nick shrugs, dropping back down to the ground. Simon and Leah move down until they’re leaning against bar of the fence, Simon meeting Bram’s eye to share a look as Nick practically moons over Abby.

“I think it’s mostly to see where to place us,” Garrett says, rolling his eyes as Abby’s attention is pulled away from an answer to the question she asked and smiling at Leah.

“So, it’s going well?” Simon asks Garrett and Bram, both of them sweaty and holding water bottles. Bram brings the bottle up to his face and dumps a little water on his hair.

“Yeah, pretty well,” Garrett says, pulling his shirt away from his body and flapping it to get air onto his skin. Bram’s standing there quietly, wearing a white turtleneck under his soccer shirt, even in the heat. Simon’s doesn’t know how he’s not passed out yet.

“What happens if you really screw up the audition? Will they kick you off the team?” Simon asks as Garrett empties his water bottle on his head, spraying water out of his mouth. Leah shrieks as it hits her, but Bram’s looking at Simon with a smile on his face.

“Audition?” he says, his eyes lighting up as Simon blushes. Leah chuckles at him a bit.

“Try out,” he says, looking at Bram again. He’s still smiling up at him, and Simon feels like maybe Bram doesn’t hate him as much as he thought.

“They can place us back on JV, which would suck,” Garrett says, and Simon looks over at him. Nick, Garrett, and Bram all made Varsity the previous year as sophomores, and he knows it means a lot to each of them to keep that status.

“You guys aren’t going to not make varsity, you practiced enough this summer,” Leah reassures them, and when Simon looks over at Bram to offer him a smile, Bram’s staring at the ground, a weird look on his face.

“I’m going to go shower,” he says, looking at Garrett. Garrett pulls his attention away from Leah to acknowledge him.

“I should too, I feel gross. Nick, you going to shower or are you going to charm Abby with your stench?”

“Fuck off, Laughlin,” Nick replies, and when Simon looks back at where Bram had been, he’s gone, already halfway to the locker room. Garrett says goodbye to Leah with a quick kiss on the cheek and he runs off to follow him.

“ _Auditions_ ,” Leah laughs after a moment, pulling Simon’s attention away from Bram and Garrett’s retreating forms.

“Shut up,” he says, cheeks heating up again.

\--

Simon wakes up the next morning with drool dried on his cheek and a crick in his neck. He’d gotten home just before dinner, which his parents weren’t too pleased about, and then he had to finish writing an essay he’d put off until the last minute, which meant he crawled into bed at midnight still wearing the shirt he’d worn to school that day.

He goes through his morning routine in a daze, fumbling through his shower and brushing his teeth. When he walks back to his room, Nora’s awake and glaring at him in the hall, mumbling something about using all the hot water, and he ignores her.

He sits down on his bed and tries to kick the grogginess from his brain, but it’s no use. He knows it’s going to be a long day, and he dresses in his comfiest pair of jeans and a super soft shirt. He’s standing in front of his mirror, pulling his shirt over his head, when he realizes something’s different.

He blinks a few times before he remembers his glasses are pushed up on his head. He pulls them down and stares at the mark on his chest.

It’s now a single word, written in simple block letters.

He lets out a shout, twisting so he can stare at the word in the mirror. He hears someone moving in the hall, and then there’s a knock at his door.

“Simon, are you okay?” his dad calls, and Simon’s too excited to speak. He runs over and pulls the door open, shirt still up around his underarms, and points.

“It’s happened!” he says, and his dad blinks before realizing what’s going on. He puts a calming hand on Simon’s shoulder and then looks at the word there.

“Audition. That’s an interesting one,” he says, and Simon’s wracking his brain to remember the previous day. It’s all a blur, a side effect of not getting enough sleep, and he’s kicking himself when his mom comes out into the hallway, looking at her son with curious eyes.

“Did it happen?” she asks, and Simon nods, showing her the word. She smiles at him as she reaches over to ruffle his hair.

“Do you know who it is?” she asks, and he shakes his head.

“Mom, I have no idea, I can barely remember yesterday,” Simon admits, and his dad smiles at him encouragingly.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he says as he walks away, and Simon grins.

\---

He waits until they’ve picked up Abby to turn and look at them, an excited smile breaking out across his face.

“Guys, it’s happened,” he says, and Abby’s eyes are suddenly shining.

“Your mark!” she exclaims, and Simon pulls up his shirt to show them the word on his ribs. They each stare at it in wonder, Nick looking up at Simon first.

“Who is it?” he asks, and Simon shakes his head.

“I cannot remember who said that to me yesterday, let alone spoke to me for the first time. Like, it’s someone I just spoke to yesterday, and it’s hard to think who that could be,” Simon says, and Leah nods slowly. She’s staring off into space, and Simon would be worried, but then she shakes herself and smiles at him.

“Well, I hope you can figure it out soon,” Leah says, and Simon sighs.

“Yeah… don’t tell anyone, okay?” he asks, and they all nod easily.

“Of course,” Abby says as they pull away and head to school.

\---

Simon’s pulling out his notebook and pen when something hits the back of his head. He turns and finds Garrett on the couch, alone, waving him over. Simon shrugs and gets up to join him.

“Where’s Bram?” he asks, and Garrett twitches a bit before he answers.

“He’s, uh, not here today, I guess,” he stumbles, and Simon blinks at him. Garrett and Bram have always been a package deal, which is how Bram came to sit at their lunch table freshman year. It’s weird to think that Garrett doesn’t know where Bram is.

“Okay,” he says, leaving it alone.

\---

He can’t leave it alone though.

It’s gnawing at him, somewhere in the back of his mind, the fact that Garrett doesn’t know where Bram is. By the time lunch rolls around, and there’s an empty seat at the table, Simon’s convinced that Garrett is lying to him.

“Where’s Bram?” Abby asks as she sits down, immediately noticing the absence.

“Not here,” Garrett says, and Abby stares at him for a moment before she blinks and looks at her tray. Leah has that far off look again, and when Simon catches her eye, she grins at him easily.

“So, any luck Simon?” Abby asks innocuously, and Simon shakes his head. He’d spent most of his morning classes paying attention, hoping that by not overly searching his brain, he’d finally think of who it was.

“ _Audition_ ,” Leah says with a laugh. “Of course it’s that.”

It’s something in the way Leah says it that makes Simon stare off into the distance, his brain working finally to piece together his afternoon. He completely misses the way Garrett puts down his fork, watching as realization crosses Simon’s face.

“Oh… oh my god,” he says, and everyone looks at him. He looks over at Garrett, who’s staring back at him like he already knows, and Simon nearly passes out.

“You’re kidding me,” he says to Garrett, and Leah lets out an annoyed huff.

“Finally,” Garrett mutters to himself, and Simon’s ears burn pink.

“But, he said…” he trails off, and Garrett nods as he takes a bite of his apple.

“You’ll get there,” he says encouragingly, and Nick slaps his spoon down on the table just enough to startle Simon.

“What just happened?” he asks, and Simon swallows thickly.

“I know who it is. I… I just remembered,” he says, and Abby’s looking far too excited.

“Who?” she asks, and Simon shakes his head. Abby looks over at Garrett, who does a passable job of shrugging indifferently. Leah’s looking at him like she knows he’s lying, and she probably does.

“I… I want to talk to, talk to them first,” Simon says, choosing his words carefully. The cafeteria is full of nosy ears. Abby nods, though she looks a little disappointed.

“Will you tell us once you do?” she asks, and Simon nods.

“Of course,” he trails off as the warning bell rings. Everyone gets up, and Simon catches Garrett’s eye. Nick and Leah head off to their shared class, Abby needs to get to her locker right away, which means no one blinks when Garrett stays back with Simon.

“What’s up, Spier?” Garrett asks, going for friendly and jovial. Simon’s glad; he doesn’t know if he could handle a serious Garrett right now.

“Bram. He won’t be at soccer practice today, huh?” he asks, and Garrett shakes his head.

“He’s really come down with something,” and it’s the way Garrett says it that makes Simon’s ears pink.

“You know, I’m sure he’ll want to know what he missed in English and Algebra. You don’t, say, have his number?” Simon’s face is pink now too, and Garrett, surprising Simon, pulls his phone out without saying a single word.

\---

Simon sits just offstage during play practice, out of Ms. Albright’s view. He’s sure she wouldn’t miss him if he left, but he’s better than that. He also told Abby he’d give her a ride home again. He isn’t about to go back on his word.

His phone’s cradled in his hands, a message thread pulled up with Bram’s name at the top. Simon doesn’t know how to start, because he’s pretty sure Bram isn’t sick, and he skipped school today because he realized what had happened. Simon’s not sure how he feels about that. He had no idea that Bram was, or possibly is, (or whatever, Simon thinks) gay, and he wouldn’t blame Bram for a moment of panic.

Abby comes over and sits down next to him for a moment, out of the scene. She doesn’t look at his phone, her eyes on her lines, and when Simon nudges her, she looks at him with soft eyes.

“How do you, like, text people for the first time?” he says dumbly, and she shrugs.

“Are you, perhaps, texting your potential soulmate?”

“Perhaps.”

“If it is who I think it is,” she’s too perceptive for her own good, “then be casual. Be yourself.”

That’s the exact opposite of what he wants to do, but then she’s gone, called back up on stage, and he’s left to stare at his phone. Eventually, he pieces together enough words to maybe be a sentence, and he hits send before he can tell himself not to. Hastily, he shoves his phone in his pocket and tries to follow along in his script.

_Simon: Hey Bram? It’s Simon. I noticed you weren’t in class today and got your number from Garrett to see if you wanted the notes from English and Algebra._

He’s so wrapped up in the progress of the play and smiling at Abby when she glances his way that he doesn’t feel his phone vibrate initially. It vibrates a second time and Simon nearly falls over trying to get it out of his pocket.

_Bram: That would be great actually. I don’t have anyone in Algebra’s number lol_

Simon takes a deep breath. Casual.

_Simon: I can bring them to you after play practice?_

The three little dots appear for a moment, and then disappear. Simon locks his phone and looks out at the stage again. His heart is in his throat, and he feels like it’s written all over his face. His phone goes off.

_Bram: Sure :)_

And then, his address.

Ms. Albright calls for everyone to stop and Simon looks up as she goes into one of her usual rants, about the school cutting their funding and the fact that some people never listen, her hands waving around as she talks. Finally, she sighs, and waves them all way.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow,” she says, and as soon as she turns, Abby is at Simon’s side, her eyes wide.

“You look like you’re about to throw up,” she says, not unkindly, and Simon nods slowly.

“Let’s get going,” he says, and she looks like she’s worried but follows him anyway. He doesn’t want to talk about anything in front of the theater people, so he bites his bottom lip until they’re settled in his car, his head falling to the steering wheel.

“Nervous?” she asks with a little chuckle, and he groans. He lifts his head up and leans all the way back against the seat, turning his head to look at her.

“I’ve been… waiting, for a long time, to have the mark turn into words. Everyone used to tease me when I was younger, tell me that I didn’t actually have a soulmate because the mark was hidden where they couldn’t see. Someone said my mark was hidden because my soulmate wasn’t going to like me,” he confesses quietly, and she reaches over to squeeze his hand.

“And now… I know I shouldn’t have assumed anyone’s sexuality ever since, you know, but I honestly never thought… Cute Bram Greenfeld,” he says softly, and Abby’s eyes light up.

“Cute Bram Greenfeld?” she repeats, and he blushes.

“That’s what I call him in my head sometimes,” he admits, and she smiles even wider.

“Do you know what you’re going to say?” she asks, and he pales.

“My only hope is that it’s coherent,” he whispers, and she laughs again.

“Simon, listen to me,” she reaches over to touch his cheek. “You have nothing to worry about.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, but she doesn’t elaborate. With a sigh, he puts the key in the ignition and pulls out of his parking spot.

They drive to her house in silence, Simon’s mind trying and failing repeatedly to come up with coherent sentences to say. When Abby opens the passenger door to get out, she pauses and reaches over to poke Simon’s cheek.

“Casual,” she says, and he rolls his eyes.

He knows the street Bram lives on, so he drives over slowly, his hands gripping and releasing the steering wheel. He thinks about the mark on his ribs, that once was all wavy lines, an indiscernible blob, and how it’s now a single word that carries with it the weight of his future.

When he parks, hidden from the windows of the house by an impressive hedge, he puts his forehead on the steering wheel again and just breathes.

His hands are shaking when he gets out of the car, so he grips the straps of his backpack and counts to three before he walks around the hedge and up the driveway. The neighborhood is too quiet, and he can hear every thought passing through his head.

He reaches up to knock on the door but comes up short, and in the time it takes his brain to force himself to just move, the locks click and the door swings open.

Simon forgot that Bram’s slightly taller than him.

“Hey,” Bram says, quietly, like his voice can’t and won’t go any louder. Simon smiles past the shaking of his stomach.

“Hey, how’re you feeling? Garrett said you came down with something,” Simon says as Bram steps back and lets him inside. The house smells like the pies his mom makes, and he feels something settle over him as he looks around.

“Oh, I’m better now, slept a lot,” Bram waves his hand in the air, and Simon watches the movement of it before snapping his eyes back to Bram’s face. They’re both staring, so Simon clears his throat.

“You didn’t miss much, at least in English. We read aloud, which was… painful,” he slips his backpack off his shoulders so his hands have something to do, pulling out his English notebook. Bram jerks his head and Simon follows him into the kitchen, where Simon can set his stuff on the table.

“And, here’s the homework for Algebra,” he says, finishing lamely, pushing his math notebook over to Bram. He’s staring at it as though he’s going to remember everything, and then he looks at Simon.

“Thanks,” he says, always so quiet, his fingers playing with the edges of the notebook. He pinches his mouth for a moment, Simon watching everything move across his face. The silence is just enough that it makes Simon liable to cry.

“That’s not the… only reason… you’re here,” Bram gets out, his voice thick like he’s talking around a lump in his throat. Simon leans against the table, his hand holding him up, fingers only a few inches from Bram’s.

“Well, no, uh, you see,” he trails off, and then he just mentally says “fuck it”, unzipping his hoodie to pull his shirt up to show Bram the word on his ribs.

“It showed up yesterday. After soccer auditions,” Simon says, and Bram ducks his head a little.

“I know,” Bram confesses, and then he reaches up and pulls his shirt up slightly, and Simon’s breath hitches in his throat. There, right above abs Simon wasn’t prepared to see, is a single word.

It’s his name.

“Wh-“ Simon cuts himself off, his shirt dropping as his hands go lax. Bram drops his shirt as well, ducking his head.

“It showed up the first day of freshman year,” Bram’s voice is a little louder now, or maybe Simon’s going to pass out. He can’t be sure, so he looks up to watch as Bram speaks, the way his mouth works.

“I… well, I hadn’t even… I only came out to my mom this summer. I told Garrett sophomore year. I haven’t walked around without a shirt on in nearly two years, because I… I didn’t know how to handle it. And it has nothing to do specifically with you, like I was and am pretty much okay, happy, with it being you, it’s just… coming out, being… gay,” he struggles over the last word, and Simon pushes his hand forward so his fingers can slip over Bram’s. Bram’s eyes snap to him, but Simon just smiles.

“I understand,” Simon says softly, and Bram attempts a small smile. He pulls his hand out from under Simon’s, but before Simon can mourn the loss of contact, Bram’s picking his hand up gently off the table and pulling Simon towards the living room. Bram sits on the couch and Simon falls down next to him, their legs just barely touching. Every point of contact is driving Simon’s mind crazy.

Bram keeps the hold on Simon’s hand as he starts to talk again.

“I’m sorry I never spoke to you,” Bram begins, and Simon chuckles.

“I thought you hated me for most of freshman year,” he admits, and Bram shakes his head.

“No, definitely not. I, uh, I’ve always had problems speaking around cute boys, and that with the added knowledge that whatever I said to you would end up on your chest and I’d have to deal with everything before I was ready, was a little much,” Bram laughs at himself, and Simon watches the way his throat moves. Simon’s brain is short circuiting.

“Cute? You – you think I’m cute?”

Bram ducks his head, his free hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck.

“Well, yeah,” Bram practically breathes, and Simon wants the couch to swallow him whole for multiple reasons.

“I’ve been calling you Cute Bram Greenfeld in my head,” Simon blurts out, and Bram looks up at him from behind his eyelashes. Simon’s mouth has suddenly gone dry.

“Really?” Bram says like he doesn’t believe him. Simon nods, afraid of what his voice will sound like when he speaks. He works some moisture back into his gums before he formulates his next sentence.

“Are you ready, now?” he asks, and Bram tilts his head at him. “To deal with… everything?”

Bram’s gazing at Simon steadily, his eyes moving slowly over Simon’s blushing face. His lips tick up slowly, as slowly as the hand he’s bringing up to touch Simon’s cheek. Simon resists the urge to make a noise in the back of his throat, so he tilts his hand into Bram’s touch instead.

“I think so,” Bram whispers, his breath fanning out across Simon’s face. When he got so close, Simon doesn’t know, as his eyes have fallen closed.

“Think?” Simon asks, going for a little joking. When he opens his eyes, Bram’s looking at his lips. The energy in the room that was already sizzling around them crackles in a way that makes Simon’s stomach quiver.

“I know so,” Bram whispers, the words leaving his mouth and touching Simon’s lips. It’s only a tilt of the head and Bram’s lips land on Simon’s, warm and gentle. Simon uses his free hand to grip Bram’s bicep as Bram slots their lips together, pushing a little. The noise Simon makes would be embarrassing if Bram didn’t make the same noise in return.

Bram pulls back after a moment, and Simon chases the feeling of his lips, which makes them both giggle before Simon captures him for another kiss. Simon’s stomach isn’t fluttering anymore, rather calm, as Bram’s lips move over his. They both gasp for breath when they break apart, eyes still closed and foreheads touching.

“Wow,” Simon whispers, and Bram laughs against his lips.

“Yeah, wow.”

\---

“So how was my name the first thing I ever said to you?” Simon asks a short time later, his head tucked up under Bram’s chin, their arms wrapped around each other. They’re having a hard time separating, and Simon’s pretty sure it’s the souls desperate need to be near each other. Or, something like that.

“Leah and I had first period together freshman year, she was the first person I talked to here. Even before I met Garrett, like two periods later. I guess it makes sense it was Leah,” he turns his head and Simon’s faintly aware that Bram’s kissing the top of his head.

“We left class together and she walked up to you and started talking, and then turned to me and introduced _me_ to _you_. You said your name, I got tongue tied. When I got home that day from school, I saw your name on my ribs and panicked.”

He’s quiet for a moment but Simon doesn’t say anything. His ear is pressed up against Bram’s collarbone, and he can hear the soft vibrations in Bram’s chest as he speaks.

“My first thought was ‘Oh good, he’s cute.’ It was quite distressing,” Bram chuckles, and Simon finally moves his head so they’re face to face. Bram’s chewing his bottom lip, so Simon reaches up to gently pull it from between his teeth.

“And then you just, never said anything to me, for about two years,” Simon chuckles, and Bram nods.

“It helped a lot that I couldn’t speak to you, in general.”

“You’re talking to me just fine now,” Simon replies, Bram nodding slowly.

“How about that?” Bram’s voice is light, happy, as he leans in to kiss Simon again, arms wrapping around Simon to hold him even closer. His hands are spread out across Simon’s back, simple pressure that makes Simon see stars. Everything is too much, from the warmth of Bram’s lips, to the way they’re tangled together at the legs, down to the muscles that flex under Simon’s hands.

“So,” Simon whispers when they break apart, trying to catch his breath. The only thing saving him from being embarrassed is the heavy way Bram’s breathing too.

“So,” Bram repeats, his lips ticking up.

“What do we do now?”

The longer they sit there, bodies pressed together, the more comfortable Simon’s starting to feel. He feels like pieces of some imaginary wall he didn’t know he had are crumbling down around his feet, and Bram’s gentle hands are wrapping around his middle, holding him tight.

“About… being out?” Bram narrows his eyes in question, and Simon nods.

“I don’t know - how ready I am,” Simon says quietly, and Bram kisses him quickly.

“Me neither,” he replies.

“I think that’s why our marks are hidden,” Simon tilts his head back a little to stretch his neck, and Bram takes the opportunity to lean forward and place his head on Simon’s shoulder. Simon’s stomach erupts in butterflies again, and he brings his hand up to cup the back of Bram’s neck.

“So we were never accidentally outed,” Bram says softly against the skin of his neck, his lips pushing forward to kiss his pulse point. Simon hums.

“The universe’s way of doing us a favor.”

Bram hums softly, his eyelashes fluttering against Simon’s skin, and for a moment, time stands still and the only thing in the world is Bram’s nose pressing into Simon’s neck. He presses a kiss there before sitting up, so they can look at each other.

“I feel increasingly comfortable around you right now,” Bram confesses softly, and Simon nods.

“Me too,” he replies with a grin.

“We don’t,” Bram starts, looking away from Simon for a moment. “We don’t have to be out if you don’t want to.”

“Do you want to?” Simon asks, watching the way Bram’s eyes flutter slightly before he answers.

“I don’t know,” he confesses softly, and Simon nods.

“Then we won’t come out. This’ll be between us, and maybe the like, six people who know,” Simon says, kissing Bram’s upper lip. Bram smiles at him, beams more like, and calm seeps into Simon’s bones.

\---

It was easy, Simon supposes, to say they wouldn’t be out when they were wrapped around each other on the couch, their lips touching more often than not. He arrives at school the next day, thinking about the soft cadence of their words on the couch, and almost immediately regrets their decision.

He’s watching Nick and Abby greet each other, a quick kiss on the lips, when there’s a knock at his window. He looks up to see Bram standing there, smiling at him from outside his car. He gathers his stuff and finally gets out, smiling at Bram easily.

“Good morning,” Bram says, listing towards him slightly. Simon can see how his eyes flick down to Simon’s lips, so he reaches out and tangles their fingertips for a moment.

“Hi,” Simon says, and they smile.

It’s easy when they get to English, Garrett already sitting on the couch, a smug smile on his face. He watches them as they sit down, their sides pressed together.

“There’s more room on the couch, you know,” Garrett leans over to whisper, and Bram turns to look at him.

“Shut up, Laughlin,” he says, though he’s smiling around his words, and Simon feels that in his bones.

It’s hard to concentrate on anything besides the press of Bram against his side, their bodies turned towards each other. Abby keeps glancing back at Simon from time to time, a smirk on her face, and Simon glares at her each time.

Halfway through class, Bram shifts, bringing his arm out from between them and putting it along the back of the couch as he leans back. Simon resists every urge in his body to lean back with him, until Bram taps the book they’re supposed to be following along from, and Simon leans back so he can follow where Bram’s finger is following along. He closes his own book and lets his ear touch Bram’s shoulder for just a moment.

Garrett shifts next to them, and when Simon looks up, he’s smiling at them fondly.

The rest of the day is harder, and Simon finds he’s progressively more annoyed with everyone as he goes through his classes. Bram sits next to him in Algebra, and when they have to pair off to work on some problems, they scoot their desks together without a word, pressing their knees together. At lunch, Bram sits as close to Simon as he can without sitting in his lap, their fingers tangled together under the table, hidden by their jackets and bodies, and no one says a word.

\---

It's Friday, which means there’s no play practice or soccer tryouts after school, and Nick had invited everyone over on Monday for best friend night.

“But, soulmates included?” he’d asked Simon, who had simply nodded.

“Fine.”

Now, he’s glad he agreed.

Abby, Leah, and Nick are climbing out of the car when Bram pulls up in the driveway as well, Garrett in his front seat. Simon gets out last, his fingers busy typing out a message to his mom.

“Simon, let’s go!” Nick calls from the front porch, and when he looks up, Simon’s not surprised to see Bram standing at the end of his car, waiting.

“Yeah, yeah!” Simon replies, jogging over to walk next to Bram, their hands bumping sporadically. Once they’re inside the house, Bram slots his fingers between Simons and smiles at him.

“Can we play a board game?” Abby’s asking in the kitchen when they walk in, throwing their backpacks on the kitchen table with the others.

“Do we have a board game for six people?” Nick wonders aloud, and Leah laughs.

“We can play in teams,” she says, to which Nick nods slowly.

“We have Monopoly,” he says, and Garrett throws an orange at him. Nick catches it with ease.

“Hey!” Nick throws it back, but Bram reaches out and catches it before it hits Garrett, setting it back in the bowl on the counter.

“Guys,” he says with a smile, Abby laughing from where she’s standing by the fridge.

“Way to spoil the fun, dad,” Garrett says, bumping into Bram as he walks past into the living room. Simon chuckles as Bram shakes his head. Leaning up on his toes, Simon places his chin on Bram’s shoulder.

“Come with me,” he says quietly, pulling on Bram’s hand. Everyone’s focused on picking out a board game or raiding the fridge for food, so Simon pulls Bram down the hall to the random room in Nick’s house that Nick’s mom started to call a “study”. It’s an armchair, a loveseat, and a wall of bookshelves. There’s a small writing desk against the wall with the window.

Simon pulls Bram down into the armchair, which is barely big enough for the both of them to sit on, but Simon supposes that’s the whole point. He ends up sitting across Bram’s lap, his legs hanging off the edge of the chair, and for a moment they just sit there, arms wrapped around each other in a warm embrace.

“Hi,” Bram laughs softly in Simon’s ear, and they’re both smiling. Nick yells something down the hall, muffled by the half-closed door, and Simon leans into Bram until they’re relaxed against the soft back of the chair.

“You okay?” Bram asks quietly, and Simon nods slowly.

“I’m better now,” he says against the softness of Bram’s shirt. Bram jostles him a bit and he sits up so they’re looking at each other.

“It was hard, huh?” he asks quietly, and Simon nods.

“Why is straight the default even though the souls have no gender? Why is Georgia like this?” Simon asks with sad eyes, and Bram shrugs, Simon’s arms shifting on his shoulders.

“You felt it too, the restlessness under your skin?” Bram tilts his head, and Simon nods.

“I felt like I wanted to crawl into a hole all day long,” he says, not at all being dramatic. Bram kisses his cheeks.

“Were Garrett and Leah like this at the beginning of their relationship?” Simon asks, and Bram nods enthusiastically.

“Leah used to come over to my house when Garrett was there, and they’d stand in the foyer for a solid 10 minutes, just making out,” Bram says, grimacing. Simon laughs, loudly, and he quickly covers his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he says, and Bram’s nodding.

“I think they finally… calmed down after a few months. I think the souls settle?”

“Yeah,” Simon leans against Bram again, and they sink into the couch some more. “I read up on the science of it when I was trying to logically figure out why my mark was hidden when everyone else’s was in plain view. There isn’t any scientific reason, by the way. But I learned a lot on how the souls work.”

“Tell me,” Bram says softly, the bubble around them growing softer as the trees in the backyard sway and sunlight filters in through the leaves.

“Well,” he kisses the underside of Bram’s jaw before he speaks, ignoring the way Bram shifts where he sits.

“There’s no evidence that the souls are physical entities anymore, though one article I read suggested that they are something like an atom that sits below the marks on our skins, which seems logical to me. The mark doesn’t appear on your skin until your soulmate is born, or at least until they’re… conceived. Someone speculates that’s because the two souls, when they’re released from their previous bodies, wander around at high frequency for a while before finding a place to settle.

“My favorite theory is the one that talks about the souls being made from the stars, and that’s how they’re able to create marks and words on our skin without any sort of detection to modern science, like it’s some kind of space magic. I know it’s out there, but it’s a really beautiful way of thinking of ourselves.”

Bram’s breathing slowly, his thumb on Simon’s waist moving gently over his exposed skin. Simon’s hand has slipped off Bram’s shoulder and is resting gently on his chest, his fingers playing with the collar of Bram’s shirt, just barely grazing skin.

“Aren’t we all made of stars, anyway?” Bram whispers, and Simon shrugs his free shoulder.

“I don’t know enough about the universe to speculate, Bram.”

Bram huffs out a laugh at that, his chest barely moving under Simon’s hand.

“I read a lot about how the souls interact, and what that means for couples when they get together. Each soul’s been split up and brought back together for, who knows, thousand of years, and they have their own way of communicating, way of being two halves of a whole. It’s why Leah’s parents argue playfully, or why mine never argue, or why Abby and Nick are… like that, but Leah and Garrett are more subtle and calm.

“Abby thought souls couldn’t argue, but they can, it’s just that finding a solution and empathy comes easier. There’s no argument that doesn’t come to a solution. I read a statistic that ran a survey of a thousand soulmates, and 25% said they were able to feel what their soulmate was feeling, which I thought was pretty cool. Some claim they can understand each other’s thoughts, but it’s not factually substantiated.”

“You read a lot about this, huh?” Bram asks when Simon pauses, and he nods.

“I went down a rabbit hole and ended up reading until like, five am. It wasn’t my smartest decision.”

Simon leans back slightly and finds Bram’s eyes closed, his face the epitome of calm.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” Simon asks, and Bram keeps his eyes closed but raises his eyebrows, his mouth moving up.

“No, I like listening to you talk,” he confesses, the bubble surrounding them warming. Simon blushes and puts his head back against Bram’s shoulder.

“I don’t have anything else to say about the souls,” he says after a moment of silence, and Bram laughs softly.

“That’s okay,” he says, moving his head so his cheek is against Simon’s hair.

“Any thoughts?” Simon asks, and Bram hums.

“I like the thought that the two halves of one soul have been finding each other, over and over again, through countless lifetimes. That they’re drawn to each other, wandering the world between embodiments in a fuzzy haze. I also like the idea that they’re pieces of the stars that have seeped into our skins. It gives mankind an interesting twist.”

Simon smiles a bit, moving his hand down Bram’s front until he can reach up under Bram’s shirt. His stomach muscles tense at Simon’s touch and then relax when Simon places his hand over where he knows his name is on Bram’s skin.

“I also,” Bram cuts himself off for a moment, his jaw moving in Simon’s peripheral. “It’s wonderful to think that, of all the souls in the world, mine is half of yours. That’s how it is for everyone, we’re all half of something. We’re made to be with someone else, and it’s just… it’s comforting, to know the guesswork is taken out of falling in love.

“We’re all going to find our other half some day, and that’ll be it. I feel pretty lucky that I found mine at my own high school.”

Simon moves to kiss the underside of Bram’s jaw again, and Bram’s hand grips at Simon’s waist for a moment. Simon leans back so he can see Bram’s face and Bram kisses him, his hand coming up to cup Simon’s face gently. There’s a moment of quiet clarity before Simon’s brain becomes fuzzy mush again.

When they finally emerge from the study twenty minutes later, no one says a word.

\---

It’s November when Simon’s pretty sure people are starting to guess what’s going on. Disappearing together at the Halloween party Bram had thrown hadn’t helped their cause at all.

Simon’s waiting in his running car when Bram’s done with soccer practice, already smiling as Bram opens the door to get inside. Cold air sweeps in and Simon shivers dramatically.

“Hi,” Bram says quietly, leaning across the console to kiss Simon. They smile at each other as they pull apart, Simon waiting for Bram to put on his seatbelt before putting the car in reverse.

Bram fiddles with the stereo, plugging his phone into the aux cord. Simon watches his hands, the bend of his fingers, out of the corner of his eye at a red light, and Bram smiles over at him when he finally picks a song.

“So, what’s up? You seem like you have something you want to say,” Bram reaches over, rubs the back of Simon’s neck, and Simon shakes him off as the light turns green.

“Do you want me to crash the car?” he jokes, and Bram laughs as he shakes his head.

“No, I don’t want to die young,” Bram says, putting both of his hands over his heart and looking at Simon with comically wide eyes. Simon laughs, struggling to keep his eyes on the road.

“Well, come on. Tell me what’s bothering your beautiful mind,” Bram intones, and Simon feels the blush on his neck. He clears his throat, never quite used to the new ways Bram finds to compliment him.

“What if we just… we don’t have to come out in some big post or dramatic fashion but… like, we’re still set as single on Facebook. And I know that shouldn’t bother me as much as it does, but like, what if we just…,” Simon looks at Bram, hoping for some help, but Bram’s staring at him steadily, and Simon forces himself to put together words.

“What if we just be. We don’t worry about keeping this a secret, because I’m pretty sure most of the school has already figured something out, especially after Halloween. We weren’t subtle with sneaking away to your room, Bram.”

Bram’s laughing, and Simon pouts at him when they come to a stop at a light.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing at you babe, it’s just the way you said it,” he reaches over and takes Simon’s hand, and Simon’s pretty sure he isn’t even aware he just used a pet name for the first time.

“I just… I think we could exist at school without much controversy and I’d feel a lot less jealous of our straight friends every single day of my life,” Simon says, and Bram pulls his hand up to kiss his knuckles. Simon’s still getting used to that move.

He pulls into Bram’s driveway and keeps his foot on the brake, as Bram’s still holding his gearshift hand. Bram reaches over and puts the car in park when he realizes, never letting go of Simon’s hand.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Bram asks, and Simon bites his bottom lip.

“A few weeks? I was definitely thinking about it after Halloween when I was getting the third degree from Nora, who had heard about stuff from some of her friends, and that’s when I realized it might not be that big of a deal,” Simon says, laughing along with Bram. Bram leans back until his head is against the seat, closing his eyes.

Simon can feel the wheels turning in his mind, the emotions just under the surface of whatever strange connection they are sharing. Simon can feel the hum of his own anxiety mixed with the lingering fear of Bram’s.

“If you don’t want-“

“No,” Bram cuts him off, bringing Simon’s hand up to kiss it again.

“You gotta stop doing that while we’re talking about important things, my brain stops working,” Simon rushes to say, and Bram smirks at him.

“I know, it’s like I can’t feel you next to me for a moment,” Bram brings their hands down to rest on the console between them. “And no, it’s not that I don’t want to… be free, come out and enjoy just existing. We’d just talked about not coming out, so I was sticking with the agreement until a conversation like this came along.”

Simon stares at his boyfriend (soulmate he thinks happily) and reaches up to shut off the car.

“Let’s go inside and talk,” Simon says firmly, and Bram laughs because he already knows what Simon’s thinking. They run up the front steps, the cold wind pushing at their backs as Bram unlocks the front door. They shed their jackets and hang them up in the front closet, their backpacks following them upstairs to Bram’s bedroom.

Bram kicks the door closed behind him and Simon wraps his arms around his shoulders, pulling him down into a kiss. Bram stumbles slightly at the force of it, his back coming into contact with his door, and he leans against it as Simon keeps control of the kiss. Bram wraps his arms around Simon’s waist and lifts him up slightly, straightening out his back. Simon opens his mouth, and so does Bram, and Simon’s rewarded with a sigh as he bites down on Bram’s bottom lip.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” Bram says, and Simon huffs against his lips.

Slipping his hands down from around Bram’s shoulders, Simon grabs onto Bram’s biceps and pulls him over to the bed. Bram sits down, already knowing what Simon’s thinking, scooting up until he’s sitting against the headboard, kicking off his shoes as he goes. Simon toes off his shoes and then climbs up onto the bed, into Bram’s lap. As soon as he’s straddling Bram’s waist, Simon reconnects their lips. He shivers as Bram wraps one arm around his waist and the other up the length of his back, his fingers coming to tangle in the bottom of his hairline. Simon keeps his hands on Bram’s face, holding him with a little more pressure than usual.

They break apart with a gasp, their foreheads resting together as they struggle to breathe. Bram’s holding Simon impossibly close, his arms shaking slightly as he keeps their chests pressed together. Simon moves his hands from Bram’s face to trace up over his ears, and down his throat to his shoulders, wrapping his arms up there.

“Talking,” Simon finally manages to say, “is for after we make up for not kissing all day.”

“I guess we should probably kiss, like, one more time,” Bram says, using the hand at the back of Simon’s neck to pull him down again.

Bram loosens his grip on Simon’s torso when they break apart, allowing Simon to sit back on Bram’s thighs slightly, his knees not pressing down into the bed anymore. They look at each other for a moment, twin smiles on their faces.

“Where were we?” Simon asks, and Bram closes his eyes as he thinks.

“I was saying that I had been waiting for you to bring up the subject of coming out again, you were talking about just being,” Bram says, sliding the hand around Simon’s waist up under his shirt.

“Right. I think we should just be. Walk into school and be at our comfort level of public displays of affection and definitely change our relationship statuses on Facebook. Maybe post a cute, but innocuous, picture on Instagram,” Simon says, and Bram smiles up at him.

“Like, of us holding hands?”

“Exactly, Bram, you read my mind,” Simon laughs, nodding just enough to rub their noses together.

“Can I ask you something?” Bram says, and Simon nods.

“Do you want to be quasi-out because you’re filled with straight people jealousy, or because you’re comfortable enough to be quasi-out?”

Simon sits back so they’re able to see each other’s full faces, his hands moving up to cup Bram’s jaw.

“I want to hold your hand while walking to class. I want to wear your soccer sweater before games. I want to give you a kiss on the cheek before a game, not just brush my fingers across yours. I want to, maybe, go to junior prom with you in coordinating outfits. I want to be able to tell people that, yeah, I have found my soulmate and he’s great. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, just anything a straight couple would do after they get together. No pomp and circumstance. Just two people, together, in the simplest of ways.”

Simon looks up from where he’s been staring at the collar of Bram’s shirt. He meets Bram’s eyes.

“I don’t want to hide how ridiculously in love with you I am.”

Bram’s breath catches in his throat, and he tries to swallow around the lump that’s formed in his throat. Simon’s still staring at him steadily.

“I might not want to make a huge show of coming out, but I want to be out with you. In our own way,” Simon finishes, blinking finally. Bram blinks rapidly against the few tears that are welling up in his eyes, and he reaches up to cup Simon’s face, his thumbs moving over the soft, pale skin under his eyes.

“I want all of that, even the junior prom. I want to bring you flowers after your play performance, even if you are only in a background role, and post this silhouette picture of you I took two weeks ago after soccer practice on Instagram. Because I’m… I’m ridiculously in love with you too, Simon,” Bram finishes, pulling Simon down until their lips are touching softly. They start smiling, and the kiss breaks as their lips stretch. Simon sobs out a laugh, wrapping his arms around Bram’s shoulders and hiding his face in his neck. Bram’s arms wrap back around Simon like before, holding him tight.

“I love you,” Bram whispers, and Simon shakes in his arms.

“I love you, too,” he whispers back.

\---

It’s halftime, and everyone’s up in the kitchen to find more snacks, when Simon clears his throat, Bram moving to stand behind him.

“Hey, guys,” Simon says, catching everyone’s attention. Leah uses the towel in her hand to hit Garrett on the butt, and he shoots up to stand up straight, closing the refrigerator door with a blush high on his cheeks. Simon hears Bram’s half chuckle in his ear.

“So, we aren’t… we aren’t going to _officially_ officially come out,” Simon starts, leaning back into Bram’s chest. Abby’s eyes are shining at them, and Nick wraps an arm around her as tears start to pool in her eyes.

“But, we aren’t going to – to hide it like we’ve been trying to do.”

Everyone seems to be holding their breath, and Simon’s aware that his parents are probably listening in the living room because the television is oddly quiet. Garrett’s the first one to find his voice.

“Like, just be a normal couple?” he says, and Simon’s never liked Garrett more than in that moment.

“Yeah, like a normal couple,” Simon says with a smile, Bram bending down to hide his face in his boyfriend’s neck, his torso shaking a little. Simon reaches back, going for a comforting pat on the back, but then he gives up and turns around completely, wrapping his arms around Bram’s shoulders.

Abby moves first, crossing the kitchen to wrap her arms around Simon and Bram. Everyone else follows, and Bram smiles from where his face is tucked into Simon’s neck as all their friends, and even Mr. and Mrs. Spier from the living room, come in to wrap them up in a protective embrace.

\---

_Abby: we’ll be waiting at your locker Simon!_

_Nick: we have oreos :)_

_Garrett: the Halloween ones_

Simon stands outside his car, staring down at his phone. Bram’s leaning on the car next to him, looking through his backpack, oblivious to the barrage of supportive texts their friends are sending in their massive group chat.

“You ready?” Simon asks as he slips his phone into his back pocket, and Bram grabs his backpack by the zippers, pulling it closed. He smiles at Simon, listing forward slightly. He smiles even wider and steps into Simon’s space, kissing the top of Simon’s head gently. Reaching down to slip their hands together, Simon smiles up at him.

“Always,” Bram says with a mischievous smile, and Simon lets the happy laugh in his chest escape.

They follow the crowd of kids heading inside, keeping their heads close as they walk. Simon’s locker isn’t that far from where the students park, but on a Monday morning after almost two weeks of constant gossip about their whereabouts at the Halloween party, Simon can hear the whispers start automatically. A few of the other soccer guys greet Bram, and he high fives them as they pass, and Simon stands up a little straighter as he notices more people smiling at them than anything else.

No one says a word.

When they reach Simon’s locker, Garrett produces a package of Halloween Oreo’s, and Nick points at them both, confirming they’re okay.

“We’re good,” Bram says with a smile, looking at Simon. They share a smile.

\---

Simon’s sitting on his bed doing homework when Bram sends him a text.

Bram: check insta

Smiling already, Simon opens the app and waits for it to load. It’s not at the top of his feed (stupid non-chronological order) but there’s a notification that he’s been tagged in something, so he clicks on it. His heart skips a beat when the picture loads. It’s subtle, not an outright picture of his face, and Simon doesn’t know when Bram had a chance to take it.

Simon recognizes it as himself, evident by the outline of his jean jacket and messy hair. He’s leaning against the fence surrounding the bleachers, the sun shining behind him, casting a long shadow over his body. The caption is a single word.

_love._

Bram picks up on the first ring.

“How do I like a picture more than once?” Simon asks, and Bram laughs, loud and happy in his ear.

“I don’t know. But hey, don’t wear that jean jacket I like to school tomorrow, we have a game and I’ll have a sweatshirt for you,” Bram says, and Simon rolls over onto his back, pulling his pillow up to his face, blushing bright red.

“I love you,” he says, and he can hear Bram smiling through the phone.

“I love you too.”

\---

Simon takes the picture the next morning in the car, his body practically swimming in the sweatshirt Bram brings him, “GREENFELD” across the back in block letters. He reaches over the console and links their hands together on Bram’s thigh, the blue of his jeans the perfect background to the shot. When he posts it, sitting right there in the car with Bram smiling at him, his caption is a single word.

_audition?_

Bram laughs all the way to English class. 

**Author's Note:**

> feedback makes my gay heart swell. 
> 
> find me on [tumblr](http://emilyspier.tumblr.com)


End file.
